When you arrive where you are going
I will be two oceans away
The attractions where you will be
Are different where I am.
Being thousand miles have their own reasons
The masquerade we play
Unrevealing images and frivolities.
What does the bird see from high up the sky
Hundred trees for nesting
Or a hundred faces for hundred performances
Velleities for acting, routine and rehearsed?
You don’t know what you are looking for
Whistling in the dark
I don’t know where I am going
Walking in the dark.
We are two mirrors reflecting each other
Somewhere is a table of grace
We are blinded by the sun.
note: Napa River at low tide, Napa Downtown Riverfront, CA